Q,O\3 


.""•   :   HBflfY  ;•"••.••'•  ••'  » 

|S:f  H  LI 


, 


This  book  is  DUE  on  th«    ' 


SOUTHERN  BRANCH, 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALlFORNlAv, 

LIBRARY, 

COS  ANGELES,  CAU4F, 


THE    LITTLE    DREAM 

AN  ALLEGORY   IN    SIX   SCENES 


PLAYS  BY 

JOHN  GALSWORTHY 


THE  SILVER  BOX 

JOY 

STRIFE 

JUSTICE 

THE  LITTLE  DREAM 


THE  LITTLE  DREAM 

AN  ALLEGORY  IN  SIX  SCENES 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

1911 


COPYRIGHT,  1911,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

All  rights  reserved 

Published  June.  1911 

Reprinted  in  August,  November, 
twice  in  December,  1911 


C,0\*3 


J? 


CHARACTERS 


SEELCHEN,  a  mountain  girl 
LAMOND,  a  climber 
FELSMAN,  a  guide 


CHARACTERS  IN  THE  DREAM 

THE  GREAT  HORN  } 

THE  Cow  HORN     ^mountains 

THE  WINE  HORN  ) 


THE  EDELWEISS 

THE  ALPENROSE 

THE  GENTIAN 

THE  MOUNTAIN  DANDELION 


•  flowers 


VOICES  AND   FIGURES  IN  THE  DREAM 


COWBELLS 
MOUNTAIN  AIR 
FAR  VIEW  OF  ITALY 
DISTANT  FLUME  OP  STEAM 
THINGS  IN  BOOKS 
MOTH  CHILDREN 
THREE  DANCING  YOUTHS 
THREE  DANCING  GIRLS 
THE  FORMS  OF  WORKERS 


THE  FORM  OF  WHAT  is  MADE 

BY  WORK 

DEATH  BY  SLUMBER 
DEATH  BY  DROWNING 
FLOWER  CHILDREN 
GOATHERD 
GOAT  BOYS 
GOAT  GOD 
THE  FORMS  OF  SLEEP 


82.2.  8-6 
SCENE   I 

2-3  2-£  (* 

It.  is  just  after  sunset  of  an  August  evening.     The  scene 

is  a  room  in  a  mountain  hut,  furnished  only  with 
a  table,  benches,  and  a  low  broad  window  seat. 
Through  this  window  three  rocky  peaks  are  seen  by 
the  light  of  a  moon,  which  is  slowly  whitening  the  last 
hues  of  sunset.  An  oil  lamp  is  burning.  SEEL/CHEN, 
a  mountain  girl,  eighteen  years  old,  is  humming  a 
folk-song,  and  putting  away  in  a  cupboard  freshly 
washed  soup-bowls  and  glasses.  She  is  dressed  in 
a  tight-fitting  black  velvet  bodice,  square-cut  at  the 
neck,  and  partly  filled  in  with  a  gay  handkerchief, 
^coloured  rose-pink,  blue,  and  golden,  like  the  alpen- 
rose,  the  gentian,  and  the  mountain  dandelion; 
alabaster  beads,  pale  as  edelweiss,  are  round  her 
throat;  her  stiffened,  white  linen  sleeves  finish  at 
the  elbow;  and  her  full  well-worn  skirt  is  of  gentian 
blue.  The  two  thick  plaits  of  her  hair  are  croascd 
and  turned  round  her  head.  As  she  puts  away  the 
last  bowl,  there  is  a  knock;  and  LAMOND  opens  ike 
outer  door.  He  is  young,  tanned,  and  good-looking, 
dressed  like  a  climber,  and  carries  a  plaid,  a  nick- 
sack,  and  an  ice-axe. 
LAMOND.  Good  evening! 

<  HKV.  Good  evening,  gentle  Sir! 
3 


4  THE   LITTLE   DREAM  sc.  i 

LAMOND.  My  name  is  Lamond.     I'm  very  late  I  fear. 

SEELCHEN.  Do  you  wish  to  sleep  here  ? 

LAMOND.  Please. 

SEELCHEN.  All  the  beds  are  full — it  is  a  pity.  I 
will  call  Mother. 

LAMOND.  I've  come  to  go  up  the  Great  Horn  at 
sunrise. 

SEELCHEN.  [Awed]  The  Great  Horn!  But  he  is 
impossible. 

LAMOND.  I  am  going  to  try  that. 

SEELCHEN.  There  is  the  Wine  Horn,  and  the  Cow 
Horn. 

LAMOND.  I  have  climbed  them. 

SEELCHEN.  But  he  is  so  dangerous — it  is  perhaps—- 
death. 

LAMOND.  Oh!  that 'sail  right!  One  must  take  one's 
chance. 

SEELCHEN.  And  father  has  hurt  his  foot.  For  guide, 
there  is  only  Hans  Felsman. 

LAMOND.  The  celebrated  Felsman? 

SEELCHEN.  [Nodding;  then  looking  at  him  with  ad- 
miration] Are  you  that  Herr  Lamond  who  has  climbed 
all  our  little  mountains  this  year  ? 

LAMOND.  All  but  that  big  fellow. 

SEELCHEN.  We  have  heard  of  you.  Will  you  not 
wait  a  day  for  father's  foot  ? 

LAMOND.  Ah!  no.     I  must  go  back  home  to-morrow. 

SEELCHEN.  The  gracious  Sir  is  in  a  hurry. 

LAMOND.  [Looking  at  her  intently]  Alas ! 

SEELCHEN.  Are  you  from  London  ?    Is  it  very  big  ? 


sc.  i  THE   LITTLE   DREAM  5 

LAMOND.  Six  million  souls. 

SEELCHEN.  Oh!  [After  a  little  pause]  I  have  seen 
Cortina  twice. 

LAMOND.  Do  you  live  here  all  the  year  ? 

SEELCHEN.  In  winter  in  the  valley. 

LAMOXD.  And  don't  you  want  to  see  the  world  ? 

SEELCHEN.  Sometimes.  [Going  to  a  door,  she  calls 
softly]  Hans!  [Then  pointing  to  another  door]  There 
are  seven  German  gentlemen  asleep  in  there ! 

LAMOND.  Oh  God! 

SEELCHEN.  Please?  They  are  here  to  see  the  sun- 
rise. [She  picks  up  a  little  book  that  has  dropped  from 
LAMOND 's  pocket]  I  have  read  several  books. 

LAMOND.  This  is  by  the  great  English  poet.  Do 
you  never  make  poetry  here,  and  dream  dreams,  among 
your  mountains? 

SEELCHEN.  [Slowly  shaking  her  head]  See !  It  is  the 
full  moon. 

While  they  stand  at  the  window  looking  at  the 
moon,  there  enters  a  lean,  well-built,  taciturn 
young  man  dressed  in  Loden. 

SEELCHEN.  Hans! 

FELSMAN.  [In  a  deep  voice]  The  gentleman  wishes  me  ? 

SEELCHEN.  [-4w?<f]  The  Great  Horn  for  to-morrow! 
[Whispering  to  him]  It  is  the  celebrated  London  one. 

FELSMAN.  The  Great  Horn  is  not  possible. 

LAMOND.  You  say  that?  And  you're  the  famous 
Felsman  ? 

FELSMAN.  [Grimly]  We  start  at  dawn. 

SEELCHEN.  It  is  the  first  time  for  years' 


6  THE   LITTLE  DREAM  sc.  i 

LAMOND.  [Placing  his  plaid  and  rucksack  on  the 
window  bench]  Can  I  sleep  here? 

SEELCHEN.  I  will  see;   perhaps — 

[She  runs  out  up  some  stairs] 

FELSMAN.  [Taking  blankets  from  the  cupboard  and 
spreading  them  on  the  window  seat]  So! 

As  he  goes  out  into  the  air,  SEELCHEN  comes 
slipping  in  again  with  a  lighted  candle. 

SEELCHEN.  There  is  still  one  bed.  This  is  too  hard 
for  you. 

LAMOND.  Oh!  thanks;  but  that's  all  right. 

SEELCHEN.  To  please  me! 

LAMOND.  May  I  ask  your  name? 

SEELCHEN.  Seelchen. 

LAMOND.  Little  soul,  that  means — doesn't  it?  To 
please  you  I  would  sleep  with  seven  German  gentlemen. 

SEELCHEN.  Oh!  no;  it  is  not  necessary. 

LAMOND.  [With  a  grave  bow]  At  your  service,  then. 
[He.  prepares  to  go]. 

SEELCHEN.  Is  it  very  nice  in  towns,  in  the  World, 
where  you  come  from? 

LAMOND.  When  I'm  there  I  would  be  here;  but 
when  I'm  here  I  would  be  there. 

SEELCHEN.  [Clasping  her  hands]  That  is  like  me — 
but  7  am  always  here. 

LAMOND.  Ah!  yes;  there  is  no  one  like  you  in  towns. 

SEELCHEN.  In  two  places  one  cannot  be.  [Suddenly] 
In  the  towns  there  are  theatres,  and  there  is  beautiful 
fine  work,  and — dancing,  and — churches — and  trains — • 
and  all  the  things  in  books — and — 


ac.  i  THE   LITTLE   DREAM  7 

LAMOND.  Misery. 

SEELCHEN.  But  there  is  life. 

LAMOND.  And  there  is  death. 

SEELCHEN.  To-morrow,  when  you  have  climbed — 
will  you  not  come  back  ? 

LAMOND.  No. 

SEELCHEN.  You  have  all  the  world;    and  I  have 
nothing. 

LAMOND.  Except  Felsman,  and  the  mountains. 

SEELCHEN.  It  is  not  good  to  eat  only  bread. 

LAMOND.  [Looking  at  her  hard]  I  would  like  to  eat 
you! 

SEELCHEN.  But  I  am  not  nice;    I  am  full  of  big 
wants — like  the  cheese  with  holes. 

LAMOND.  I  shall  come  again. 

SEELCHEN.  There  will  be  no  more  hard  mountains 
left  to  climb.     And  if  it  is  not  exciting,  you  do  not  care. 

LAMOND.  O  wise  little  soul! 

SEELCHEN.  No.     I  am  not  wise.     In  here  it  is  always 
aching. 

LAMOND.  For  the  moon  ? 

SEELCHEN.  Yes.  [Then  suddenly]  From  the  big  world 
you  will  remember? 

LAMOND.  [Taking  her  hand]  There  is  nothing  in  the 
big  world  so  sweet  as  this. 

IXJHEN.  [Wisely]  But  there  is  the  big  world  itself. 

LAMOND.  May  I  kiss  you,  for  good-night  ? 

She  puts  her  face  forward;  and  he  kisses  her 
cheek,  and,  suddenly,  her  lips.  Then  as  she 
draws  away. 


8  THE   LITTLE   DREAM  sc.  i 

LAMOND.  I  am  sorry,  little  soul. 
SEELCHEN.  That's  all  rigjjt^x 
LAMOND.  [Taking  the  candle]  Dream  well!    Good- 
night! 

SEELCHEN.  [Softly]  Good-night! 
FELSMAN.  [Coming  in  from  the  air,  and  eyeing  them] 
It  is  cold — it  will  be  fine. 

LAMOND,  still  looking  back,  goes  up  the  stairs; 

(and  FELSMAN  waits  for  him  to  putts. 
SEELCHEN.  [From  the  window  seat]  It  was  hard  for 
him  here,  I  thought. 

He  goes  up  to  her,  stays  a  moment  looking  doivn, 

then  bends  and  kisses  her  hungrily. 
SEELCHEN.  Art  thou  angry  ? 

He  does  not  answer,  but  turning  out  the  lamp, 

goes  into  an  inner  room. 

SEELCHEN  sits  gazing  through  the  window  at 
the  peaks  bathed  in  full  moonlight.  Then, 
drawing  the  blankets  about  her,  she  snuggles 
down  on  the  window  seat. 

SEELCHEN.  [In  a  sleepy    voice]  They  kissed  me — 
both.     [She  sleeps] 

The  scene  falls  quite  dark. 


SCENE  II 

The  scene  is  slowly  illumined  as  by  dawn.  SEELCHKN  u 
still  lying  on  the  window  seat.  She  sits  up,  freeing 
her  face  and  hands  from  the  blankets,  clianging  the 
swathings  of  deep  sleep  for  the  filmy  coverings  of  a 
dream.  The  wall  of  the  hut  has  vanished;  there  is 
nothing  between  her  and  the  three  mountains  veiled 
in  mist,  save  a  trough  of  darkness.  Then  as  the 
peaks  of  the  mountains  brighten,  they  are  seen  to 
have  great  faces. 

SEBLCHEN.  Oh!    They  have  faces! 

The  face  of  THE  WINE  HORN  is  the  profile  of 
a  beardless  youth.  The  face  of  THE  Cow 
HORN  is  that  of  a  mountain  shepherd,  solemn, 
and  brown,  with  fierce  black  eyes,  and  a  black 
beard.  Between  them  THE  GREAT  HORN, 
whose  hair  is  of  snow,  has  a  high  beardless 
visage,  as  of  carved  bronze,  like  a  male  sphinx, 
terene,  without  cruelty.  Far  down  below  the 
faces  of  the  peaks,  above  the  trough  of  darkness, 
are  peeping  out  the  four  little  heads  of  the 
•flowers  of  EDELWEISS,  and  GENTIAN,  MOUN- 
TAIN DANDELION,  and  ALPENROSE;  on  their 
heads  are  crowns,  made  of  their  several  flowers, 
9 


s 


10  THE  LITTLE  DREAM          sc.  n 

all  powdered  with  dewdrops;  ard  when  THE 
FLOWERS  lift  their  child-faces  little  tinkling 
bells  ring. 
All  around  the  peaks  there  is  nothing  but  blue 

sky. 

EDELWEISS.     [In  a  tiny  voice]  Would  you  ?    Would 
you?     Would  you?     Ah!  ha! 

GENTIAN,  M.  DANDELION,  ALPENROSE  [With  their 
bells  ringing  enviously]  Oo-oo-oo! 

From  behind  the   Cow   HORN   are  heard  tlie 

voices  of  COWBELLS  and  MOUNTAIN  AIR: 
' '  Clinkel-clink!     Clinkel-clink! ' ' 
"Mountain  air!  Mountain  air!" 

From  behind  THE  WINE  HORN  rise  the  rival 
voices  of  VIEW  OF  ITALY,  FLUME  OF  STEAM, 
and  THINGS  IN  BOOKS: 
"I  am  Italy!  Italy!" 
"See  me — steam  in  the  distance!" 
"O  remember  the  things  in  books!" 

And  att  call  out  together,  very  softly,  with  THE 
FLOWERS  ringing  their  bells.     Then  far  away 
like  an  echo  comes  a  sighing: 
"Mountain  air!  Mountain  air!" 

And  suddenly  the  Peak  of  THE  Cow  HORN 

speaks  in  a  voice  as  of  one  unaccustomed. 
THE  Cow  HORN.  Amongst  kine  and  my  black-brown 
sheep  I  live;  I  am  silence,  and  monotony;  I  am  the 
solemn  hills.  I  am  fierceness,  and  the  mountain  wind; 
clean  pasture,  and  wild  rest.  Look  in  ray  eyes,  love 
me  alone! 


sc.  ii          THE   LITTLE   DREAM  11 

SEELCHEN.  [Breathless]  The  Cow  Horn!  He  is 
speaking — for  Felsman  and  the  mountains.  It  is  the 
half  of  my  heart! 

THE  FLOWERS  laugh  happily. 

THE  Cow  HORN.  I  stalk  the  eternal  hills — I  drink 
the  mountain  snows.     My  eyes  are  the  colour  of  burned 
wine;    in  them  lives  melancholy.     The  lowing  of  the 
kine,  the  wind,  the  sound  of  falling  rocks,  the  running 
of  the  torrents;   no  other  talk  know  I.     Thoughts  sim- 
ple, and  blood  hot,  strength  huge — the  cloak  of  gravity. 
SEELCHEN.  Yes,  yes!   I  want  him.     He  is  strong! 
The  voices  of  COWBELLS  and  MOUNTAIN  AIR 

cry  out  together: 
' '  Clinkel-clinkl  Clinkel-clink! ' ' 
"Mountain  air  I  Mountain  air!" 
THE  Cow  HORN.  Little  soul!    Hold  to  me!    Love 
me!  Live  with  me  under  the  stars! 

SEELCHEN.  [Below  her  breath}  I  am  afraid. 

And  suddenly  the  Peak  of  THE  WINE  HORN 

speaks  in  a  youth's  voice. 

THE  WINE  HORN.  I  am  the  will  o'  the  wisp  that 
dances  thro'  the  streets;  I  am  the  cooing  dove  of 
Towns,  from  the  plane  trees  and  the  chestnuts'  shade. 
From  day  to  day  all  changes,  where  I  burn  my  incense 
to  my  thousand  little  gods.  In  white  palaces  I  dwell, 
and  passionate  dark  alleys.  The  life  of  men  in  crowds 
is  mine — of  lamplight  in  the  streets  at  dawn.  [Softly] 
I  have  a  thousand  loves,  and  never  one  too  long;  for 
I  am  nimbler  than  your  heifers  playing  in  the  sun- 
shine. 


12  THE   LITTLE   DREAM          sc.  n 

THE  FLOWERS,  ringing  in  alarm,  cry: 
"We  know  them!" 

THE  WINE  HORN.  I  hear  the  rustlings  of  the  birth 
mhd  death  of  pleasure;  and  the  rattling  of  swift  wheels. 
I  hear  the  hungry  oaths  of  men;  and  love  kisses  in  the 
airless  night.  Without  me,  little  soul,  you  starve  and 
die. 

SEELCHEN.  He  is  speaking  for  the  gentle  Sir,  and 
the  big  world  of  the  Town.  It  pulls  my  heart. 

THE  WINE  HORN.  My  thoughts  surpass  in  number 
the  flowers  in  your  meadows;  they  fly  more  swiftly 
than  your  eagles  on  the  wind.  I  drink  the  wine  of 
aspiration,  and  the  drug  of  disillusion.  Thus  am  I 
never  dull! 

The  voices  of  VIEW  OF  ITALY,  FLUME  OF  STEAM, 
and  THINGS  IN  BOOKS  are  heard  catting  out 
together: 

"I  am  Italy,  Italy!" 
"See  me — steam  in  the  distance!" 
"O  remember,  remember!" 

THE  WINE  HORN.  Love  me,  little  soul!    I  paint  life 
fifty  colours.     I  make  a  thousand  pretty  things!     I 
twine  about  your  heart! 
SEELCHEN.  He  is  honey! 

THE  FLOWERS  ring  their  bells  jealously  and  cry: 
"Bitter!  Bitter!" 

THE  Cow  HORN.  Stay  with  me,  Seelchen!  I  wake 
thee  with  the  crystal  air. 

The  voices  of  COWBELLS  and  MOUNTAIN  AIR 
sing  out  far  away: 


sc.  H          THE   LITTLE   DREAM  13 

' '  Clinkel-clink!  Chnkel-clink! ' ' 
"Mountain  air!  Mountain  air  I" 

And  THE  FLOWERS  laugh  happily. 
THE  WINE  HORN.  Come  with  me,  Seelchen!     My 
fan,  Variety,  shall  wake  you! 

The  voices  of  VIEW  OF  ITALY,  FLUME  OF  STEAM; 

and  THINGS  IN  BOOKS  chant  softly: 
"I  am  Italy!  Italy!" 
"See  me — steam  in  the  distance!" 
"O  remember,  remember!" 

And  THE  FLOWERS  moan. 
SEELCHEN.  [In  grief]  My  heart!     It  is  torn! 
THE  WINE  HORN.  With  me,  little  soul,  you  shall  race 
in  the  streets,  and  peep  at  all  secrets.     We  will  hold 
hands,  and  fly  like  the  thistle-down. 

M.  DANDELION.  My  puff-balls  fly  faster! 
THE  WINE  HORN.  I  will  show  you  the  sea. 
GENTIAN.  My  blue  is  deeper! 
THE  WINE  HORN.  I  will  shower  on  you  blushes. 
ALPENROSE.  I  can  blush  redder! 
THE  WINE  HORN.  Little  soul,  listen!    My  Jewels! 
Silk!  Velvet! 

EDELWEISS.  I  am  softer  than  velvet! 
THE  WINE  HORN.  [Proudly]  My  wonderful  rags! 
TIIK  FLOWERS.  [Moaning]  Of  those  we  have  none. 
SEELCHEN.  He  has  all  things. 

THE  Cow  HORN.  Mine  are  the  clouds  with  the  dark 
silvered  wings;  mine  are  the  rocks  on  fire  with  the  sun; 
and  the  dewdrops  cooler  than  pearls.  Away  from  my 


14  THE   LITTLE   DREAM          sc.  H 

breath  of  snow  and  sweet  grass,  thou  wilt  droop,  little 
soul. 

THE  WINE  HORN.  The  dark  Clove  is  my  fragrance! 
THE  FLOWERS  ring  eagerly,  and  turning  up  their 

faces,  cry: 
"We  too,  smell  sweet." 

But  the  voices  of  VIEW  OF  ITALY,  FLUME  OF 
STEAM,  and  THINGS  IN  BOOKS  cry  out: 

"I  am  Italy!  Italy!" 

"See  me — steam  in  the  distance!" 

"O  remember,  remember!" 

SEELCHEN.  [Distracted]  Oh!   it  is  hard! 
THE  Cow  HORN.  7  will  never  desert  thee. 
THE  WINE  HORN.  A  hundred  times  7  will  desert 
you,  a  hundred  times  come  back,  and  kiss  you. 
SEELCHEN.  [Whispering]  Peace  for  my  heart! 
THE  Cow  HORN.  With  me  thou  shalt   lie  on  the 
warm  wild  thyme. 

THE  FLOWERS  laugh  happily. 

THE  WINE  HORN.  With  me  you  shall  lie  on  a  bed 
of  dove's  feathers. 

THE  FLOWERS  moan. 

THE  WINE  HORN.  7  will  give  you  old  wine. 
THE  Cow  HORN.  7  will  give  thee  new  milk. 
THE  WINE  HORN.  Hear  my  song! 

From  far  away  comes  the  sound  as  of  man- 
dolins. 

SEELCHEN.  [Clasping    her    breast]  My    heart — it  is 
leaving  me! 


an.  n          THE   LITTLE   DREAM  15 

THE  Cow  HORN.  Hear  my  song! 

From  the  distance  floats  ilie  piping  of  a  Shep- 
herd's reed. 

SEELCHEN.  [Curving  her  hand  at  her  ears]  The  pip- 
ingj     Ah! 
''THE  Cow  HORN.  Stay  with  me,  Seelchen! 

THE  WINE  HORN.  Come  with  me,  Seelchen! 

THE  Cow  HORN.  I  give  thee  certainty! 

THE  WINE  HORN.  I  give  you  chance! 

THE  Cow  HORN.  I  give  thee  peace. 

THE  WINE  HORN.  I  give  you  change. 

THE  Cow  HORN.  I  give  thee  stillness. 

THE  WINE  HORN.  I  give  you  voice. 

THE  Cow  HORN.  I  give  thee  one  love. 
N^THE  WINE  HORN.  I  give  you  many. 

SEELCHEN.  [As  if  the  words  were  torn  from  her  heart] 
Both,  both— I  will  love! 

And  suddenly  the  Peak  of  THE  GREAT  HORN  speaks. 

THE  GREAT  HORN.  And  both  thou  shalt  love,  little 
soul!  Thou  shalt  lie  on  the  hills  with  Silence;  and 
dance  in  the  cities  with  Knowledge.  Both  shall  possess 
thee!  The  sun  and  the  moon  on  the  mountains  shall 
burn  thee;  the  lamps  of  the  town  singe  thy  wings,  small 
Moth!  Each  shall  seem  all  the  world  to  thee,  each 
shall  seem  as  thy  grave!  Thy  heart  is  a  feather  blown 
from  one  mouth  to  the  other.  But  be  not  afraid! 
For  the  life  of  a  man  is  for  all  loves  in  turn.  'Tis  a 
little  raft  moored,  then  sailing  out  into  the  blue;  a  tune 
caught  in  a  hush,  then  whispering  on;  a  new-born 


16  THE   LITTLE   DREAM  sc.  H 

babe,  half  courage  and  half  sleep.  There  is  a  hidden 
rhythm.  Change,  Quietude.  Chance,  Certainty.  The 
One,  The  Many.  Burn  on — thou  pretty  flame,  trying 
to  eat  the  world!  Thou  shalt  come  to  me  at  last,  my 
soul! 

THE  VOICES  and  THE  FLOWER-BELLS  peal  out. 
SEELCHEN,  enraptured,  stretches  her  arms  to 
embrace  the  sight  and  sound,  but  all  fades 
dvwly  into  dark  sleep. 


SCENE   III 

The  dark  scene  again  becomes  glamorous.     SEELCHEN  w 
seen  with  her  hand  stretched  out  towards  the  Piazza 
of  a  little  town,  with  a  plane  tree  on  one  side,  a 
wall  on  the  other,  and  from  the  open  doorway  of 
an  Inn  a  pale  path  of  light.     Over  the  Inn  hangs 
a  full  golden  moon.     Against  the  wall,  under  the 
glimmer  of  a  lamp,  leans  a  youth  with  the  face  of 
THE  WINE  HORN,  in  a  crimson  cloak,  thrumming 
a  mandolin,  and  singing: 
"Little  star  soul 
Through  the  frost  fields  of  night 
Roaming  alone,  disconsolate — 
From  out  the  cold 
I  call  thee  in — 
Striking  my  dark  mandolin — 
Beneath  this  moon  of  gold." 
From  the  Inn  comes  a  burst  of  laughter,  and  the 

sound  of  dancing. 
SIELCHEN.  [Whispering]  It  is  the  big  world ! 

The  Youth  of  THE  WINE  HORN  sings  on: 
"Pretty  grey  moth, 
Where  the  strange  candles  shine 
Seeking  for  warmth,  so  desperate — 
17 


18  THE   LITTLE   DREAM         sc.  in 

Ah!  fluttering  dove 
I  bid  thee  win — 
Striking  my  dark  mandolin — 
The  crimson  flame  of  love." 

SEELCHBN.  [Gazing  enraptured  at  the  Inn]  They  are 
dancing! 

As  SHE  speaks,  from  either  side  come  moth- 
children,  meeting  and  fluttering  up  the  path 
of  light  to  the  Inn  doorway;  then  wheel- 
ing aside,  they  form  again,  and  again  flutter 
forward. 

SEELCHEN.  [Holding  out  her  hands]  They  are  real — 
Their  wings  are  windy. 

The  Youth  of  THE  WINE  HORN  sings  on: 
"  Lips  of  my  song, 
To  the  white  maiden's  heart 
Go  ye,  and  whisper,  passionate, 
These  words  that  burn — 
*  O  listening  onel 
Love  that  flieth  past  is  gone 
Nor  ever  may  return!'" 

SEELCHEN  runs  towards  him — but  the  light 
above  him  fades;  he  has  become  shadow.  She 
turns  bewildered  to  the  dancing  moth-children 
— but  they  vanish  before  her.  At  the  door  of 
the  Inn  stands  LAMOND  in  a  dark  cloak. 
SEELCHEN.  It  is  youl 

LAMOND.  Without  my  little  soul  I  am  cold.     Come! 
[He  holds  out  his  arms  to  her] 


sc.  in         THE   LITTLE   DREAM  19 

SEELCHEN.  Shall  I  be  safe? 

LAMOND.  What   is  safety?     Are  you   safe   in  your 
mountains  ? 

SEELCHEN.  Where  am  I,  here? 

LAMOND.  The  Town. 

Smiling  he  points  to  Hie  doorway.  And  silent 
as  shadoivs  there  come  dancing  out,  two  by 
two,  two  girls  and  two  youths.  The  find 
girl  is  dressed  in  white  satin  and  jewels;  and 
the  first  youth  in  black  velvet.  The  second 
girl  is  in  rags,  and  a  shawl;  and  the  second 
youth  in  shirt  and  corduroys.  They  dance 
gravely,  each  couple  as  if  in  a  world  apart. 

SEELCHEN.  [Whispering]  In  the  mountains  all  dance 
together.     Do  they  never  change  partners  ? 

LAMOND.  How  could  they,   little  one  ?     Those  are 
rich,  these  poor.     But  see! 

A  COBYBANTIC  COUPLE  come  dancing  forth. 
TJie  girl  has  bare  limbs,  a  flame-coloured 
shift,  and  hair  bound  with  red  flowers;  the 
youth  wears  a  panther-skin.  They  pursue 
not  only  each  other,  but  the  other  girls  and 
youths.  For  a  moment  all  is  a  furious  med- 
ley. Then  the  Corybantic  Couple  vanish  into 
the  Inn,  and  the  first  two  couples  are  left, 
slowly,  solemnly  dancing,  apart  from  each 
other  aft  before. 

SEELCHEN.  [Shuddering]  Shall  I  one  day  dance  like 
that  ? 


20  THE   LITTLE   DREAM         sc.  m 

The  Youth  of  THE  WINE  HORN  appears  again 
beneath  the  lamp.  He  strikes  a  loud  chord; 
then  as  SEELCHEN  moves  towards  that  sound 
the  lamp  goes  out;  there  is  again  only  blue 
shadow;  but  the  couples  have  disappeared 
into  the  Inn,  and  the  doorway  has  grown 
dark. 

SEELCHEN.  Ah!   What  I  do  not  like,  he  will  not  let 
me  see. 

LAMOND.  Will  you  not  come,  then,  little  soul? 
SEELCHEN.  Always  to  dance  ? 
LAMOND.  Not  so! 

THE  SHUTTERS  of  the  houses  are  suddenly 
thrown  wide.  In  a  lighted  room  on  one  side 
of  the  Inn  are  seen  two  pale  men  and  a 
woman,  amongst  many  clicking  machines. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  Inn,  in  a  forge,  are 
msible  two  women  and  a  man,  but  half 
clothed,  making  chains. 

SEELCHEN.  [Recoiling  from  both  sights,  in  turn]  How 
sad  they  look — all!     What  are  they  making? 

In  the  dark  doorway  of  the  Inn  a  light  shines 
out,  and  in  it  is  seen  a  figure,  visible  only 
from  the  waist  up,  clad  in  gold-cloth  stud- 
ded with  jewels,  with  a  flushed  complacent 
face,  holding  in  one  hand  a  glass  of  golden 
wine. 

SEELCHEN.  It  is  beautiful.     What  is  it  ? 

LAMOND.  Luxury. 


BC.  in         THE   LITTLE   DREAM  21 

SEELCHEN.  What  is  it  standing  on  ?    I  cannot  see. 
Unseen,  THE  WINE  HORN'S  mandolin  twang* 

out. 

LAMOND.  For  that  do  not  look,  little  soul 
SEELCHEN.  Can  it  not  walk  ?     [He  shakes  his  head} 
Is  that  all  they  make  here  with  their  sadness  ? 

But  again  the  mandolin  twangs  out;  the  shutters 
fall  over  the  houses;  the  door  of  the  Inn  grows 
dark. 

LAMOND.  What  is  it,  then,  you  would  have?  Is  it 
learning?  There  are  books  here,  that,  piled  on  each 
other,  would  reach  to  the  stars!  [But  SEELCHEN  shakes 
her  head]  There  is  religion  so  deep  that  no  man  knows 
what  it  means.  [But  SEELCHEN  shakes  her  head]  There 
is  religion  so  shallow,  you  may  have  it  by  turning  a 
handle.  We  have  everything. 

SEELCHEN.  Is  God  here  ? 

LAMOND.  Who  knows  ?  Is  God  with  your  goats  ? 
[But  SEELCHEN  shakes  her  head]  What  then  do  you 
want  ? 

SEELCHEN.  Life. 

The  mandolin  twangs  out. 

LAMOND.  [Pointing  to  his  breast]  There  is  but  one 
road  to  life — 

SEELCHEN.  Ah!  but  I  do  not  love. 

LAMOND.  When  a  feather  flies,  is  it  not  loving  the 
wind — the  unknown?  When  the  day  brings  not  new 
things,  we  are  children  of  sorrow.  If  darkness  and 
light  did  not  change,  colild  we  breathe?  Child!  To 


22  THE   LITTLE   DREAM         sc.  m 

live  is  to  love,  to  love  is  to  live — seeking  for  wonder. 
[And  as  she  draws  nearer]  See!  To  love  is  to  peer  over 
the  edge,  and,  spying  the  little  grey  flower,  to  climb 
down!  It  has  wings;  it  has  flown — again  you  must 
climb;  it  shivers,  'tis  but  air  in  your  hand — you  must 
crawl,  you  must  cling,  you  must  leap,  and  still  it  is 
there  and  not  there — for  the  grey  flower  flits  like  a 
moth,  and  the  wind  of  its  wings  is  all  you  shall  catch. 
But  your  eyes  shall  be  shining,  your  cheeks  shall  be 
burning,  your  breast  shall  be  panting — Ah!  little  heart! 
[The  scene  falls  darker}  And  when  the  night  comes—- 
there it  is  still,  thistledown  blown  on  the  dark,  and  your 
white  hands  will  reach  for  it,  and  your  honey  breath 
waft  it,  and  never,  never,  shall  you  grasp  that  wanton 
thing — but  life  shall  be  lovely.  [His  voice  dies  to  a 
whisper.  He  stretches  out  his  arms] 

SEELCHEN.  [Touching  his  breast]  I  will  come. 
LAMOND.  [Drawing  her  to  the  dark  doorway]  Love  me! 
SEELCHEN.  I  love! 

The  mandolin  twangs  out,  the  doorway  for  a 
moment  is  all  glamorous;  and  they  pass 
through.  Illumined  by  the  glimmer  of  the 
lamp  the  Youth  of  THE  WINE  HORN  is  seen 
again.  And  slowly  to  the  chords  of  his  man- 
dolin he  begins  to  sing: 

"  The  windy  hours  through  darkness  fly — 
Canst  hear  them,  little  heart  ? 
New  loves  are  born,  and  old  loves  die, 
And  kissing  lips  must  part. 


sc.  in         THE   LITTLE   DREAM  23 

The  dusky  bees  of  passing  years — 
Canst  see  them,  soul  of  mine — 
From  flower  and  flower  supping  tears, 
And  pale  sweet  honey  wine? 

[His  voice  grows  strange  and  passionate] 

O  flame  that  treads  the  marsh  of  time, 

Flitting  for  ever  low, 

Where,  through  the  black  enchanted  slime, 

We,  desperate,  folloiving  go — 

Untimely  fire,  we  bid  tJiec  stay! 

Into  dark  air  above, 

The  golden  gipsy  thins  away — 

So  has  it  been  with  love!" 

While  he  is  singing,  the  moon  grows  pale,  and 
dies.  It  falls  dark,  save  for  the  glimmer  of 
the  lamp  beneath  which  he  stands.  But  as 
his  song  ends,  the  dawn  breaks  over  the  houses, 
the  lamp  goes  out — THE  WINE  HORN  becomes 
shadow.  Then  from  the  doorway  of  the  Inn, 
in  the  chill  grey  light  SEELCHEN  comes  forth. 
She  is  pale,  as  if  wan  with  living;  her  eyes 
like  pitch  against  the  powdery  whiteness  of 
her  face. 

SEELCHEN.  My  heart  is  old. 

But  as  she  speaks,  from  far  away  is  heard  a 
faint  chiming  of  COWBELLS;  and  while  she 
stands  listening,  LAMOND  appears  in  the  door- 
iray  of  the  Inn. 


24  THE   LITTLE   DREAM         sc.  in 

LAMOND.  Little  soul! 

SEELCHEN.  You!  Always  you! 

LAMOND.  I  have  new  wonders. 

SEELCHEN.  [Mournfully]  No. 

LAMOND.  I  swear  it!  You  have  not  tired  of  me, 
that  am  never  the  same  ?  It  cannot  be. 

SEELCHEN.  Listen! 

The  chime  of  THE  COWBELLS  is  heard  again. 

LAMOND.  [Jealously]  The  music  of  dull  sleep!  Has 
life,  then,  with  me  been  sorrow? 

SEELCHEN.  I  do  not  regret. 

LAMOND.  Come! 

SEELCHEN.  [Pointing  to  her  breast]  The  bird  is  tired 
with  flying.  [Touching  her  lips]  The  flowers  have  no 
dew. 

LAMOND.  Would  you  leave  me  ? 

SEELCHEN.  See! 

There,  in  a  streak  of  the  daum,  against  the  plane 
tree  is  seen  the  Shepherd  of  THE  Cow  HORN, 
standing  wrapped  in  his  mountain  cloak. 

LAMOND.  What  is  it? 
SEELCHEN.  He! 

LAMOND.  There  is  nothing.  [He  holds  her  fast]  I 
have  shown  you  the  marvels  of  my  town — the  gay,  the 
bitter  wonders.  We  have  known  life.  If  with  you  I 
,y  no  longer  live,  then  let  us  die!  See!  Here  are 
sweet  Deaths  by  Slumber  and  by  Drowning! 

The  mandolin  twangs  out,  and  from  the  dim 
doorway  of  the  Inn  come  forth  the  shadowy 


sc.  in         THE   LITTLE   DREAM  25 

forms,  DEATH  BY  SLUMBER,  and  DEATH  BY 
DROWNING,  who  to  a  ghostly  tivanging  of 
mandolins  dance  slowly  towards  SEELCHEN, 
stand  smiling  at  her,  and  as  slowly  dance 
away. 

SEELCHEN.  [Following]  Yes.  They  are  good  and 
sweet. 

While  she  moves  towards  the  Inn,  LAMOXD'S 
face  becomes  transfigured  with  joy.  But  just 
as  she  reaches  the  doorway,  there  is  a  distant 
chiming  of  bells  and  blowing  of  pipes,  and 
the  Shepherd  of  THE  Cow  HORN  sings: 

"  To  the  wild  grass  come,  and  the  dull  far  roar 
Of  the  falling  rock;  to  the  flowery  meads 
Of  thy  mountain  home,  where  the  eagles  soar, 
And  the  grizzled  flock  in  the  sunshine  feeds. 
To  the  Alp,  where  I,  in  the  pale  light  crowned 
With  the  moon's  thin  horns,  to  my  pasture  roam; 
To  the  silent  sky,  and  the  wistful  sound 
Of  the  rosy  dawns — my  daughter,  come!" 

While  HE  sings,  the  sun  has  risen;  and  SEEL- 
CHEN has  turned,  with  parted  lips,  and  hands 
stretched  out;  and  the  forms  of  death  have 
vanished. 

SEELCHEN.  I  come. 

LAMOND.  [Clasping  her  knees]  Little  soul!  Must  I 
then  die,  like  a  gnat  when  the  sun  goes  down  ?  With- 
out you  I  am  nothing. 


26  THE  LITTLE   DREAM        sc.  m 

SEELCHEN.  [Releasing    herself]  Poor    heart — I    am 
gone! 

LAMOND.  It  is  dark.     [He  covers  his  face  with  his 
cloak]. 

Then  as  SEELCHEN  reaches  the  Shepherd  of  THE 
Cow  HORN,  there  is  blown  a  long  note  of  a 
pipe;  the  scene  falls  back;  and  there  rises 
a  far,  continual,  mingled  sound  of  Cowbells, 
and  Flower  Bells,  and  Pipes. 


SCENE   IV 

The  scene  slowly  brightens  with  the  misty  flush  of  dawn. 
SEELCHEN  stands  on  a  green  alp,  with  all  around, 
nothing  but  blue  sky,  A  slip  of  a  crescent  moon  is 
lying  on  her  back.  On  a  low  rock  sits  a  brown- 
faced  GOATHERD  blowing  on  a  pipe,  and  the  four 
Flower-children  are  dancing  in  their  shifts  of  grey- 
white,  and  blue,  rose-pink,  and  burnt-gold.  Their 
bells  are  ringing,  as  they  pelt  each  other  with 
flowers  of  their  own  colours;  and  each  in  turn, 
wheeling,  flings  one  floiver  at  SEELCHEN,  who  puts 
them  to  her  lips  and  eyes. 

SEELCHEN.  The  dew!  [She  moves  towards  the  rock] 
Goatherd ! 

But  THE  FLOWERS  encircle  him;  and  when  they 
wheel  away  he  has  vanished.  She  turns  to 
THE  FLOWERS,  but  they  too  vanish.  The 
veils  of  mist  are  rising. 

SEELCHEN.  Gone!  [She  rubs  her  eyes;  then  turning 
once  more  to  the  rock,  sees  FELSMAN  standing  there,  with 
his  arms  folded]  Thou! 

FELSMAN.  So  thou  hast  come — like  a  sick  heifer  to 
l>e  healed.  Was  it  good  in  the  Town — that  kept  thee 
so  long  ? 

.  I  do  not  regret. 
27 


28  THE   LITTLE   DREAM         sc.  iv 

FELSMAN.  Why  then  return  ? 

SEELCHEN.  I  was  tired. 

FELSMAN.  Never  again  shalt  thou  go  from  me ! 

SEELCHEN.  [Mocking]  With   what  wilt   thou    keep 
me? 

FELSMAN.  [Grasping  her]  Thus. 

SEELCHEN.  I  have  known  Change — I  am  no  timid 
maid. 

FELSMAN.  [Moodily]  Aye,  thou  art  different.     Thine 
eyes  are  hollow — thou  art  white-faced. 

SEELCHEN.  [Still  mocking]  Then  what  hast  thou  here 
that  shall  keep  me  ? 

FELSMAN.  The  sun. 

SEELCHEN.  To  burn  me. 

FELSMAN.  The  air. 

There  is  a  faint  wailing  of  wind. 

SEELCHEN.  To  freeze  me. 

FELSMAN.  The  silence. 

The  noise  of  the  wind  dies  away. 

SEELCHEN.  Yes,  it  is  lonely. 

FELSMAN.  Wait!   And  the  flowers  shall  dance  to  thee. 

And  to  a  ringing  of  their  bells,  THE  FLOWERS 
come  dancing;  till,  one  by  one,  they  cease,  and 
sink  down,  nodding,  fatting  asleep. 

SEELCHEN.  See!  Even  they  grow  sleepy  here! 
FELSMAN.  I  will  call  the  goats  to  wake  them. 

THE  GOATHERD  is  seen  again  sitting  upright 
on  his  rock  and  piping.  And  there  come 
four  little  brown,  wild-eyed,  naked  Boys,  with 


sc.  iv          THE   LITTLE   DREAM  29 

Goafs  legs  and  feet,  vvho  dance  gravely  in 
and  out  of  The  Sleeping  Flowers;  and  THE 
FLOWERS  wake,  spring  up,  and  fly.     Till 
each  Goat,  catching  his  flower  has  vanished, 
and  THE  GOATHERD  has  ceased  to  pipe,  and 
lies  motionless  again  on  his  rock. 
FELSMAN.     Love  me! 
SEELCHEN.  Thou  art  rude! 
FELSMAN.  Love  me! 
SEELCHEN.  Thou  art  grim! 

FELSMAN.  Aye,  I  have  no  silver  tongue.  Listen! 
This  is  my  voice.  [Sweeping  his  arm  round  all  the  still 
aJp]  It  is  quiet.  From  dawn  to  the  first  star  all  is  fast. 
[Laying  his  hand  on  her  heart]  And  the  wings  of  the 
bird  shall  be  still. 

SEELCHEN.  [Touching  his  eyes]  Thine  eyes  are  fierce. 
In  them  I  see  the  wild  beasts  crouching.  In  them  I 
see  the  distance.  Are  they  always  fierce  ? 

FELSMAN.  Never — to  look  on  thee,  my  flower. 
SEELCHEN.  [Touching  his  hands]  Thy  hands  are 
rough  to  pluck  flowers.  [She  breaks  away  from  him  to 
the  rock  where  THE  GOATHERD  is  lying]  See!  Nothing 
moves!  The  very  day  stands  still.  Boy!  [But  THE 
GOATHERD  neither  stirs  nor  answers]  He  is  lost  in  the 
blue.  [Passionately]  Boy!  He  will  not  answer  me.  No 
one  will  answer  me  here. 

FELSMAN.  [With  fierce  longing]  Am  7  then  no  one  ? 
SEELCHEN.  Thou  ? 

[The  scene  darkens  with  evening] 


30  THE   LITTLE   DREAM          sc.  iv 

See!   Sleep  has  stolen  the  day!     It  is  night  already. 

There  come  the  female  shadow  forms  of  SLEEP, 
in  grey  cobweb  garments,  waving  their  arms 
drowsily,  wheeling  round  her. 
SEELCHEN.  Are  you  Sleep?    Dear  Sleep! 

Smiling,  she  holds  out  her  arms  to  FELSMAN. 
He  takes  her  swaying  form.  They  vanish, 
encircled  by  the  forms  of  SLEEP.  It  is  dark, 
save  for  the  light  of  the  thin  horned  moon 
suddenly  grown  bright.  Then  on  his  rock, 
to  a  faint  piping  THE  GOATHERD  sings: 
"My  goat,  my  little  speckled  one, 

My  yellow-eyed,  sweet-smelling, 

Let  moon  and  wind  and  golden  sun 

And  stars  beyond  all  telling 

Make,  every  day,  a  sweeter  grass, 

And  multiply  thy  leaping! 

And  may  the  mountain  foxes  pass 

And  never  scent  thee  sleeping! 

Oh!  Let  my  pipe  be  clear  and  far, 

And  let  me  find  sweet  water! 

No  hawk,  nor  udder-seeking  jar 

Come  near  thee,  little  daughter! 

May  fiery  rocks  defend,  at  noon, 

Thy  tender  feet  from  slipping! 

Oh!  hear  my  prayer  beneath  the  moon — • 

Great  Master,  Goat-God — skipping!" 

There  passes  in  the  thin  moonlight  the  Goat-Cod 
Pan;   and  with  a  long  wail  of  the  pipe  THK 


sc.  iv          THE   LITTLE   DREAM  31 

GOATHERD  BOY  is  silent.     Then  the  moon 
fades,   and  all  is  black;    till,   in  the  faint 
gridy  light  of  the  false  dawn  creeping  up, 
SEELCHEN  is  seen  rising  from  the  side  of  the 
sleeping   FELSMAN.    THE   GOATHERD   BOY 
has  gone;  but  by  the  rock  stands  the  Shepherd 
of  THE  Cow  HORN  in  his  cloak. 
SEELCHEX.  Years,  years  I  have  slept.     My  spirit  is 
hungry.     [Then  as  she  sees  the  Shepherd  of  THE  Cow 
HOKX  standing  there]  I  know  thee  now — Life  of  the 
earth — the  smell  of  thee,  the  sight  of  thee,  the  taste 
of  thee,  and  all  thy  music.     I  have  passed  thee  and 
gone  by.  [She  moves  away] 

FELSMAN.  [Waking]  Where  wouldst  thou  go  ? 
SEELCHEN.  To  the  edge  of  the  world. 
FELSMAN.  [Rising  and  trying  to  stay  her]  Thou  shall 
not  leave  me! 

[But  against  her  smiling  gesture  he  struggles  as 

though  against  solidity] 
SEELCHEN.  Friend!    The  time  is  on  me. 
FELSMAN.  Were  my  kisses,  then,  too  rude?    Was  I 
too  dull  ? 

SEELCHEN.  I  do  not  regret. 

The  Youth  of  THE  WINE  HORN  is  seen  sud- 
denly standing  opposite  the  motionless  Shep- 
herd of  THE  Cow  HORN  ;  and  his  mandolin 
twangs  out. 

FELSMAN.  The  cursed  music  of  the  Town!  Is  it 
back  to  him  thou  wilt  go?  [Groping  for  sight  of  the 
hated  figure]  I  cannot  see. 


32  THE   LITTLE   DREAM  sc  iv 

SEELCHEN.  Fear  not!    I  go  ever  onward. 
FELSMAN.  Do  not  leave  me  to  the  wind  in  the  rocks! 
Without  thee  love  is  dead,  and  I  must  die. 
SEELCHEN.  Poor  heart!     I  am  gone. 
FELSMAN.  [Crouching  against  the  rock]  It  is  cold. 
At  the  blowing  of  the  Shepherd's  pipe,  THE  Cow 
HORN  stretches  forth  his  hand  to  her.     Tlie 
mandolin  twangs  out,  and  THE  WINE  HORN 
holds  out  his  hand.     She  stands  unmoving. 
SEELCHEN.  Companions,  I  must  go.     In  a  moment 
it  will  be  dawn. 

In  silence  THE  Cow  HORN  and  THE  WINE 
HORN  cover  their  faces.  The  false  dawn  dies. 
It  fallt  qutie  dark. 


SCENE  V 

Then  a  faint  glow  stealing  up,  lights  the  snowy  head  of 
THE  GREAT  HORN,  and  streams  forth  on  SEELCHEN. 
To  either  side  of  that  path  of  light,  like  shadows, 
THE  Cow  HORN  and  THE  WINE  HORN  stand  with 
cloaked  heads. 
SEELCHEN.  Great  One!  I  come! 

The  Peak  of  THE  GREAT  HORN  speaks  in  a 
far-away    voice,    growing,    with    the    light, 
clearer  and  stronger. 
Wandering  flame,  thou  restless  fever 
Burning  all  things,  regretting  none; 
The  winds  of  fate  are  stilled  for  ever — 
Thy  little  generous  life  is  done, 
And  all  its  wistful  wondering s  cease! 
Thou  traveller  to  the  tideless  sea, 
Where  light  and  dark,  and  change  and  peace, 
Are  One — Come,  little  soul,  to  MYSTERY! 
SEELCHEN,  fatting  on  her  knees,  bows  her  head 
to  the  ground.     The  glow  slowly  fades  till  the 
scene  is  black. 


SCENE   VI 

Then  as  the  blackness  lifts,  in  the  dim  light  of  the  false 
dawn  filtering  through  the  window  of  the  mountain 
hut,  LAMOND  and  FELSMAN  are  seen  standing  be- 
side SEELCHEN  looking  down  at  her  asleep  on  the 
window  seat. 

FELSMAN  [Putting  out  his  hand  to  wake  her}  In  a 
moment  it  will  be  dawn. 

She  stirs,  and  her  lips  move,  murmuring. 
LAMOND.  Let  her  sleep.     She's  dreaming. 

FELSMAN  raises  a  lantern,  till  its  light  falls  on 

her  face.     Then  the  two  men  move  stealthily 

towards  the  door,  and,  as  she  speaks,  pass  out. 

SEELCHEN.  [Rising  to  her  knees,  and  stretching  out 

her  hands  with  ecstasy]  Great  One,  I  come!  [Waking, 

she  looks  around,  and  struggles  to  her  feet]  My  little 

dream! 

Through  the  open  door,  the  first  flush  of  dawn 
shows  in  the  sky.  There  is  a  sound  of  goat- 
bells  passing. 

The  curtain  falls. 


35 


? 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


MAR  2  1  1934 
MAY  2  8  193* 
JUN  1 1  193^ 


JUl  « 
13\«* 


21 


JBiSC  i-rt-i 

F6rmL-9-15m-7,'32 


AUG  3 

AUG  5 

,  25 


193T 


6  1348    • 


PR 
6013 


orrhy 


The  little  dream 
' 


A     000  666  439     5 


f  BRAIMCM- 
"  CAMFORN, 


